Sol of the Netherworld
by nemesis1807
Summary: "I heard there's a pack of wolves nearby. You'd probably be better off with them." It seems like everything that could fall apart has, and Sol is left trying to fit the pieces together while the forces around her try to smash them further. The Overlord is gone, a hostile Empire has risen, and all magic is being expunged. But that's nothing compared to what Kaeric throws at her.
1. Prologue

**This is a sequel to my other fic Sol of the Dark Tower.**

Councilor Nyxa of the Order of Bylin was nervous. She fumbled with books and papers, nearly spilling them onto the floor as she took her seat. She organized them on the table before her and became increasingly selfconscious as she noticed not a single other councilor taking a seat around the horseshoe shaped table had brought anything with them.

_I'm representing Bylin, Lord of Knowledge! It's only right that I should be the one to have brought notes._

The thought helped for about four seconds. Nyxa had never been very could at convincing herself of anything.

_It'll be fine! Just do what Thomas told you to do. Speak up when ever you feel the need. Never hold back. Be the voice of reason and logic. Embody your Order._

Nyxa straightened her back and assumed what she hoped to be a pose of quiet confidence. Bylin help her, she was nervous. She sucked in a breath and held it as the final councilor took her seat. They waited in respectful silence for the Grey to arrive.

Or at least, they would have waited in respectful silence if Nyxa hadn't decided to hold her breath for so long and started rather loudly gasping for air. Nobody mentioned it or even looked at her, but Nyxa's face turned as red as the robes she wore.

When the others suddenly rose from their seats, Nyxa followed suit a second behind them. She also managed to knock her pile of books onto the floor. She hurriedly bent over to gather them up, standing again just in time to meet the eyes of the Grey standing directly across the table from her, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"Councilor," the old, heavily bearded man said with a nod, smiling broadly.

"Grey," Nyxa hastily said, lowering her eyes. She sank into her chair with relief when he continued on, then jumped back up when she realized she was the only one sitting. It was only when the Grey took his seat at the top of the horse shoe beside the young woman that was his chosen successor did everyone else sit back down. Nyxa felt a little better upon seeing that she too had brought a thin stack of papers.

"I don't believe we have need of such formalities today," the Grey said, placing a hand over the papers when the woman went to read them. "I do believe we all know why this meeting of the Council was called."

"We can't afford to delay our actions," the Aetheryan Councilor declared. "The armies are gathered and we need to march."

_I am prepared. I am useful. I just need to wait for the right moment._ Nyxa pulled out the papers with the armies logistic reports and put them on the top of pile, ready for a quick reference if needed.

"Don't be daft! Just where are you planning to march on?" the Dazenian councilor rolled his eyes. "We're not even sure if the reports are accurate, and even if they are, we have no idea where Toby is hiding."

Nyxa found her copy of the report and held it at the ready.

"So we wait then? Wait and let what happened to Sarn happen to the Homeland?"

The book detailing the fall of Sarn found its way to the top of Nyxa's pile.

_Still prepared. Still useful_.

"We need more information."

"But the Wanderers-"

"Followers of Sithian. Use their correct title."

"Who cares?"

All eyes turned to Lyzel, the Sithian councilor. Hood pulled up, his feet were on the table, his chair balanced on the back two legs and his hands were clasped and resting on his stomach. He didn't acknowledge their attention. Nyxa wasn't sure if he was awake.

_Are all Council meetings like this? I expected more... structure._

"As I was saying, the Wanderers haven't turned up any solid information, and we have yet to hear anything on the whereabouts of that damned Ageless."

The atmosphere of the room turned uneasy. This was the real reason they had been called together. Nyxa shuffled Sol's dossier to the top.

"No word from the team that was sent out?"

"Nothing. We don't know what happened."

"We know damned well what happened," the Aetheryan Councilor snarled. "That crazy bitch has thrown in with her brother. We always knew it was just a matter of time before she turned traitor."

The room went silent. No one made any sign to suggest they disagreed with that statement. Nyxa bit her lip before speaking up.

"It's very, um, unlikely that Sol would, um, willingly join Toby. Archived reports by, um, the survivors of Sarn tell of how, um, she stood against him. While her files detail, um, less than admirable behaviour, she has never broken any laws or displayed, um, traitorous tendencies."

"She consorts with the Baurtily, non-Followers, and has turned disgracing her people into an artform! She is already a traitor and should have been exiled long ago."

"Sol has never technically done anything that violates our laws. She may spit in the face of our culture, but still, technically." Jezzin's Councilor shrugged.

"So you think it's just a coincidence that the Toby has been sighted and the team sent to find Sol disappears? Two of my soldiers were on that mission!"

"Enough," the Grey said, not loudly or very forcefully, but everyone immediately went silent. "Councilor Lyzel. Sol is of your order. I believe your word carrier more weight in this matter."

Lyzel looked up, face obscured in the shadows under the hood.

"... I will send my Wanderers to look into this."

Lyzel's chin dipped back down to rest on his chest, and just like that the matter was settled. The meeting continued, switching back and forth between topics so that Nyxa was constantly shuffling papers around to find relevant information, then never using it as the topic changed once more.

All in all, Nyxa supposed her first Council session could have gone worse.


	2. Sol and the Reins

Sol held the reins gingerly and lightly, uneasy at the thought of moving them in the slightest way. Horses didn't like Sol. It sometimes felt like no animal with hooves did, especially cows. Sithian, Sol hated cows. But horses, the beasts refused to listen to her and would act up if Sol tried to exert any manner of control over them.

The only reason Sol was even holding the reins was because it would seem odd to any other traveler on the road for an obviously pregnant woman to be driving the wagon while someone else perfectly abled sat by. If the horse started getting testy as they often would, Sol would pass the reins off to Rose to get the gelding under control. He somehow knew who was holding him. Rose would get him settled fast enough, pass them back to Sol, and the Wanderer would go back to pretending to be in control.

It was the perfect metaphor for her life.

The wagon bounced through the ruts and dips in the road. Out of the side of her eye Sol could see Rose shift uncomfortably on the wooden bench beside her. Sol had been around a long time and had a vast array of experiences behind her, but Rose had only ever lived a life of wealth. She wasn't adjusted to life on the road.

"Feeling sore?" Sol asked.

"I'm fine."

Rose shifted in her seat as she said this, keeping her eyes straight ahead. She hadn't complained once. Either she knew it was pointless, she wanted to keep her dignity, or because this had been all her plan in the beginning. Get away from the Tower and Gnarl's machinations and keep themselves safe. Rose had made many good points before they had sneaked their way out of the Tower but truly the only reason Sol had agreed was because keeping Kaern's child away from the Tower would surely delay the rise of another Overlord. No Overlord meant no one was holding the other end of Sol's leash. She may still be staked to the ground but no one was tugging her around. Sol took her victories where she could.

Up ahead down the road, the outline of a town could just be seen. Really it was just a tiny little hamlet, too small to attract any sort of notice from anyone which was just what Rose had wanted. It was also the sort of place Sol avoided like every building was really a giant hornet's nest.

"You do realize this is a bad place for me?" Sol said.

"I don't know what you mean. Neither Kaern's nor my father's influence spread this far, and not many travelers stop through here. No one will have heard of the Overlord's shadow."

Sol turned in her seat, put her arm on the back and stared.

"What?"

Sol tapped under her eye, dark blue irises shaped into long ovals instead of circles.

"Yes. They're distinctive. But no one will have heard of you."

Sol shook her head and turned back. "That's not my point. I'm obviously not human, and while that's fine in the big cities or where there's a lot of through fare, I speak from experience when I say that we're going to be run out with torches and pitchforks."

Rose paused before speaking. "This place is safe."

Sol snorted.

"I'll do the talking. You stay with the wagon and try to look... human."

"Perfect," Sol muttered, fished a long brimmed hat from behind her and pulled it down over her face.

This far away from any major centers the roads were in poor repair and it took some time for them to reach the town in their little wagon. They didn't bring much in the way of property from the Tower for the sake of mobility, but Rose brought plenty of money from the treasury now hidden beneath a false slat in the wagon's floor. They've been on the road for four months of constant travel heading west and they had finally reached a point Rose believed was safe enough to stop, at least for a little while.

Sol though, she wanted to keep going. Press further. Travel was familiar to her, she'd been doing it for longer than this hamlet had existed. She didn't voice this wish, however. Given Rose's state it would have been foolish and dangerous. They needed a stopping point no matter how much Sol wished it was otherwise.

"Could you have kept it open?"

"What?"

"The portal. If you had been there, could you have kept it open long enough for Kaern to get through?"

"I..." Sol shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The horse sensed her movement and slowed down, throwing its head from side to side in irritation. Rose immediately took the reins from her as Sol thought of the best way to put what she had to say.

"Yes," Sol decided to put it bluntly. "I can't open one to get there, but I could have kept one open if it were already made."

But Sol hadn't been there. She had been tasked with guarding a newly pregnant Rose. The Overlord hadn't trusted her alone with Gnarl, which was definitely understandable. Rose was a practical woman, one Sol didn't believe would feel guilt over what happened, so Sol couldn't understand why she would ask about this, and why now. Rose never had before.

"Why?" Rose asked, voice clear, in control and perfectly neutral. The horse had calmed and the reins were returned as Sol explained.

"It's, well... When I create a portal, it's sort of like punching a hole through a wall to get to the next room. I keep going until the resistance is gone. No one I've ever heard of has the control and precision to go only an exact distance through the wall, which is where the Abyss is. Precision for us only matters in direction, then it's just throw all our power at it 'till we get through. As for keeping it open, it's more a matter of preventing it from closing. There is a difference. We have to keep throwing energy through it, like stopping ear ring holes from healing over."

"'We' being Wanderers?"

"Generally, yeah."

Rose went silent for a short while.

"So you use power over precision to create portals?"

"It's more complicated than I'm putting it, but yeah."

"Hmm," Rose hummed in a way that made Sol feel, for no discernible reason, that whatever Rose was thinking Sol wouldn't like.

They rode into the town's center, a well sized square lined with squat, wooden buildings. They earned some curious glances from the locals, though none were hostile or suspicious. Sol shifted uncomfortably and wished for her staff, hidden in the wagon with her armor and anything else that might suggest wealth. The only weapon Rose would permit Sol to carry was a simple if well made knife strapped to her belt. They had put a lot of effort into appearing as normal as possible and all of it would be ruined with one good look at Sol's face.

Sol didn't bother to try to direct the horses and simply passed the reins over to Rose to pull the wagon up to what they could only assume was the general store, given that it was the only building over a single story. Sol quickly jumped down and ran to the other side of the wagon to help Rose step down.

"Watch our things," Rose ordered and walked into the building with all the poise and confidence of a queen. Sol really should have mentioned something about that. There was no point in wearing a commoner's dress if she was going to move like a noble woman.

Sol climbed back onto the bench, quickly scanned the people around the square, then pulled the hat farther over her eyes. Everyone was stealing glances at the stranger in the wagon, some were out right staring, but none were approaching and Sol was thankful for that. Let Rose deal with them all.

Time passed while Sol waited out in the summer heat, long enough for her to get antsy. She began to debate getting up and following Rose in, but never moved to get up. Eventually Rose came out, hands on her stomach, followed out by a heavily bearded man built like a bear, muscle corded arms hefting a medium sized crate.

Rose directed the man to place the crate into the back of the wagon, words were exchanged and coins pressed into the man's palm. The man helped Rose back to her seat beside Sol, then gave the Wanderer a look up and down with an odd expression before returning back inside.

"What's going on?" Sol asked, keeping her voice low so no one passing by would pick up the words.

"You're my niece. My sister died in childbirth after being bewitched by an elf, and I took you in out of guilt."

"... I don't look anything like an elf."

"It's a good thing no one here as ever _seen_ an elf. Keep to yourself, don't talk to anyone, don't go anywhere near children, and hopefully you won't get accused of anything and run out of town."

"Fine," Sol said, rubbing her forehead. "What now?"

"The town's healer lives just on the outskirts of town."

"That seems inconvenient."

"She enjoys her privacy. Hopefully she'll respect ours. She midwifes for the town, and in bad cases she takes in her patients if they need careful watching. Harl told me we should be able to stay with her for the time being, if we can pay."

"Harl?"

"The store owner."

"Sounds like a plan," Sol said. She shifted in her seat, looked down at the reins in her hand, then passed them over to Rose. Rose sighed, took them and got the horses going before handing them back to Sol.

"Tomorrow morning I will realize I forgot to buy apples. I'll be gone early in the morning."

Sol looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"In small places like this the local store owner is a prominent person with a lot of sway. A person to be on good terms with. And my niece loves apples and she is so often depressed and needs cheering up."

Sol shook her head then focused on the road ahead.

...

They were behind her, across the road. Sol gave no outward indication that she was aware as she hammered a fresh fence post into the dirt. Carolyn, the only healer for miles, always had a new job for Sol to do. "Fix the fence." "Brush down the horses." "Run around the house six times." Anything to keep Sol occupied and therefore not hexing the townfolk or summoning demons or whatever it was she thought 'half elves' did. That, while frustrating, Sol could put up with. It was this that really got to her. Just a couple more seconds. Wait for it...

A hard object hit Sol in the back just below her right shoulder. This was followed almost instantly by another striking her calf. That would have been the skinny little brat with the orange hair. He wasn't very good at throwing things.

Sol threw a hand up to cover her head and grabbed her tools with the other, pretending to be in a panicked scramble. A barrage of apples and the laughter of children chased her into the small barn beside Carolyn's small home and shut the door. She wasn't allowed inside the house.

The children's laughter and shouts persisted for several minutes. It wasn't until Sol was certain they were gone that she left the barn, and, as expected, found the pieces of the garden fence torn from the ground and trampled upon.

It wasn't that Sol wanted to hunt the little shits down and grind them into the dirt per-say, just terrify them to the point where the mere sight of Sol was enough to make them wet themselves. Unfortunately, she couldn't risk so much as _looking_ at them. Eyes on the ground, silent, away from everyone and everything, and hope nothing goes bad. If one of the kids so much as got a cold, or a pet goes missing, an animal dies, a strong storm sweeps in, wild animals heard nearby, anything remotely bad would have fingers pointed at her.

Needless to say Sol was not having a fun time. Rose, on the other hand, fit in seamlessly. Everyone was her friend within days of her arrival. The former mistress not only managed to convince Carolyn to give up her room and move into one of the smaller guest rooms, Rose also got Sol permission to sleep in the barn, a much bigger achievement considering the hostile looks the healer gave the Wanderer.

Sol cleaned up the mess and retrieved the wooden posts from the dirt. At least none of them had managed to break any. Sol took her time and redid her work. Eventually, with some effort, the fence was completed. She took no pride in the job well done or happiness that the chore was done. It was just another task in a long list of busy work.

Whatever it was Carolyn told her to do next, she just hoped it wasn't to exercise the horses again. There was only two of them, but two was a lot when it came to large beasts trying to trample her to death.

_Just a couple more weeks_, Sol told herself. What was a few weeks to someone such as her?


End file.
